Misc.

better call saul 2

you called lalo salamanca the next afternoon like you said you would, and then not for another month. 

in all reality, you'd meant to call your friend. you'd gone to a bar for the night and the person you'd gone with ditched you for some hotshot with too many shitty tattoos, and you didn't have a ride home. you'd gone to call them to ask to pick you up, but in your stupor dialed the wrong number. it only hit you when he picked up.

"hey amigo do you have any idea what time it is?"

"hello?" you asked, not recognizing the voice on the other side of the line for a minute. 

"h- who is this?"

"(y/n). who's this?"

"oh yeah (y/n)! it's lalo. from el michoacano" 

"oh fuck me, lalo, god i'm so sorry, i dialed the wrong number. shit man, god i am so sorry." you slurred.

"it's all cool, are you ok? where are you?" lalo asked, suddenly very interested in the conversation.

"nowhere, it's fine. im sorry."

"no, no, don't hang up. are you good?" 

" i'm at a bar," you answered. "my friend ditched me, and i need a ride home."

"well- i could pick you up."

"god no, you've already helped me so much, i would hate to bother you again."

"ah it's no problem, where are you? i'll be there in two seconds."

-

by the time he arrived you'd somehow gotten three more shots under your belt. everything was spinning, too hot, and clouded in a drunken haze. to be frank you felt rather gross.

"oh shit, hey!" you said, laughing when lalo showed up. he smiled and squeezed your shoulders.

"hey! i haven't seen you for a while, how are things?" he asked, leading you to the exit. it was absolutely time for you to leave. one more drink and you looked ready to pass out at the bar. you held on to his arm, finding it difficult to walk in a straight line. 

he let you. 

you leaned close to him. he smelled good, like palo santo and smoke, like sandalwood and bourbon. it made you feel tired, like you were ready to take a nap for a million years.

"well i mean everything healed up well and good, so thank you again for that. um, i just finished reading a big ol' book and my grandma got a new cat."

"a big ol' book?" lalo chuckled.

"yessir, a big ol' book." 

"okay well why don't you tell me all about it on the drive home."

-

lalo helped you up to your apartment, and made sure you were through the door in the right flat before even considering letting you go.

"are you sure you're gonna be okay?" 

"yeah, i'll be good."

"listen. tomorrow? advil and sleep. you're gonna need it. and orange juice." he told you, setting you down on the couch. 

"sounds like a plan, stan." you yawned.

"call me in the morning so i know you didn't die." lalo told you, squeezing a shoulder and heading out.

"okie dokie." but you were already half asleep when you mumbled the words.

when you woke at the ripe hour of 3pm the next afternoon, there was a blanket draped over you and a jug of orange juice sitting patiently on the kitchen counter.